Page 28 of Two Hearts' Accidental Heroes

“I do,” Rick replied. “Dishonorably discharged airman, Rick Andrews.”

“It gives you a reason why no one will hire you, plus it’s good to stick with a past occupation you can complain about in detail.”

“So, this place where he hangs out is on the lake?”

“Yes. He’s usually here in Crystal Rock about once a week, on Thursday. We saw him driving the truck today. The boat registration says it belongs to him, but he uses the address in Rice Lake for everything. He owns the marina, so there are several cruisers in his name. No one’s been able to follow him because it would be too obvious. He’s usually here in town when there’s not much going on.”

“So, if I can get a job at the marina, I can probably keep an eye on him and let you know about his comings and goings.”

Jake shrugged. “Let’s not count on that yet. That might be too obvious anyway. Let’s just see if you can relate to him or not.”

“So, I’ll go over there tonight,” Rick said.

“I’d go in there about seven,” Jake said. “That beard does a good job of disguising who you are. Steve mentioned that someone might have recognized you.”

“I didn’t get a chance to see who it was.”

Jake nodded. “Well, this bar that Montgomery hangs out at is a hole in the wall, so I doubt if anyone you were close to in the past would be there.”

“I was pretty young, and I’ve changed quite a bit since then,” Rick agreed.

“I’ll have someone there keeping an eye on you,” Jake said reassuringly.

“Alright,” Rick agreed.

* * *

Gil’s was located on the outskirts of town. Jake had been right, Rick had to admit. The place was a dive. There was a mixed crowd inside—fishermen, bikers and their babes, and an assortment of guys at the bar who were factory workers from a nearby town.

They did serve food though, and surprisingly, whatever they were cooking smelled good.

Glancing around, he noticed that most everyone was drinking bottled beer, except for the bikers who had pitchers resting in the center of the table. He went along with the crowd, ordering a beer as he took a seat by himself at the end of the bar.

A couple of guys were playing pool and were looking to partner up. Since they didn’t appear to want to stir up trouble, after one of them found a partner, Rick thought it would be worth the risk to volunteer to play with the other.

One game he knew how to play well was pool, so he was patient, drawing out conversation from all three men, two who just happened to work at Montgomery Marina in Rice Lake but lived in Crystal Rock. That probably explained why Wes Montgomery hung out here. If he drank as much as reported, he was probably able to get a ride home to Rice Lake the following day with someone who knew him.

But maybe Wes did have a place here in Crystal Rock, just not in his name.

Eventually, Rick’s patience worked out. Around eight, Wes Montgomery walked into the bar ahead of another younger man who looked slightly familiar.

They sat at the end of the bar where Rick had been sitting earlier, both ordering drinks. Who was that younger guy? He knew him from somewhere. He was probably about Brian’s age.

That’s right. The guy had gone to high school with Brian and was kind of a leech. No one really liked him. Supposedly, he thought he was God’s gift to women and had come on to about every girl in the senior class.

Wade was his name—Wade Armstrong.

And then Rick suddenly remembered something that Brian had once said. There were rumors going around that Wade had raped a girl.

But then a chill ran up and down Ric’s spine, remembering the kid in the Camaro who’d dropped Shanna Weldon off in the high school parking lot, the first time they’d talked as teenagers.

It wasn’t a coincidence that he was hanging around with Wes Montgomery, then.

Rick kept playing pool and somehow his skills must have got him noticed, because before long, he was in a showdown with one of the guys after they’d quit playing with partners. After calling and shooting each ball into its pocket, he finally tapped in the eight and called it a night.

He joined Wes Montgomery and Wade Armstrong at the end of the bar, leaving an open seat between him and Wes. The guy he’d just beat called out an order for the beer that Rick had won from him. Thankfully, there were no big stakes, because Rick hadn’t brought along much cash.

Rick caught bits and pieces of the conversation between Wes and Wade. It sounded like they were going away for a while, he realized, on some kind of road trip.

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